6/15/2025, 3:28 PM
Skill:
![[Image: dcoc5ur-b11be2e6-324a-46c0-887a-2ed3a652...ctaa7Kg29k]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/cf2836cb-5893-4a6c-b156-5a89d94fc721/dcoc5ur-b11be2e6-324a-46c0-887a-2ed3a6527af4.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcL2NmMjgzNmNiLTU4OTMtNGE2Yy1iMTU2LTVhODlkOTRmYzcyMVwvZGNvYzV1ci1iMTFiZTJlNi0zMjRhLTQ2YzAtODg3YS0yZWQzYTY1MjdhZjQuZ2lmIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.HLhyVdu_lVoW_LozwJbV3g9UYzbwNKD1Vctaa7Kg29k)
As she searched, she smelled nothing of prey nearby ... just the stale scent of some rabbits that had flittered through the meadow earlier that day. The Nordic woman would blink slowly, ears flicking slightly, before she steeled herself with determination. Food would come to her, she was certain; she just needed to be patient enough. Besides, perhaps if there was no food, that meant there was something — or someone — else in this field for her to find, instead.
Sooner than she would realize.
The rustle of the undergrowth caused her head to swivel, her larger body turning to square toward his. Despite her size, there was a delicate softness in the way she carried herself, and there was certainly no intent at intimidation of the other. Her lips smoothed into a smile as she cupped her ears toward the fire-coated youth. She could sense something on him — trepidation, perhaps? Or was it caution?
He would ask her a few questions, building upon his query with each new flow of thoughts and words.
Rune blinked.
She was accustomed to the more stoic mannerisms of the Northern wolves, not the soft, floral accents that would wrap around such simple questions. Rune would take a slow step closer (mirroring his step back), nostrils flaring as she inhaled the scents that lingered on his skin. The movement was a bit forward, perhaps, but there was no malice in her actions — simply curiosity. Her faðir had told her the wolves to the South were ... friends.
She would lift her head back and smile.
Heil vinr . My name is Rune, from Skjǫldrheim.Her dual-toned eyes would roam over him, admiring the color of his coat. She was also far more accustomed to the cooler blues and grays of her family.
My faðir visited here earlier this year. I wanted to see it, too,she admitted, waving her tail behind her as she smiled wider.
Who're you?she would mirror him softly, a bit of play lacing into her voice. And then she paused a moment, contemplating.
I do not feel unwelcome. Should I?
